


Agnello Fresco

by A_bello



Series: Hannigram Smut [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Daddy Kink, Flirting, Grinding, Hannibal also says “good boy”, Hannibal calls Will "sweet boy", Heavy Petting, Library Sex, M/M, Married Businessman Hannibal, No Aftercare, Not Underage, Rough fucking, Snarky Will, Table Sex, Twink Will Graham, Will finally says "pretty please', Will teasing Hannibal, age gap, ass grabbing, bottom/semi-sub Will, choking/manhandling, palpable sexual tension, top/dom Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25906327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_bello/pseuds/A_bello
Summary: (The title means Fresh Lamb)__Will gasped, feeling his hand tighten in his short curls, pulling his head farther back so the older man could lick and nose along his jawline, ravage his neck and lower, free hand popping open the buttons on his shirt with ease."I said I'd never fuck anyone older than my dad, but-"Will cut off, a small sound escaping him when Hannibal bit his earlobe, hands spreading open his now unbuttoned shirt, grazing his ribs and hips."But I suppose I'll have to make an exception"Or; Hannibal is mystified by beautiful young Will, and he has to do something to alleviate the pressure of his attraction.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Hannigram Smut [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907743
Comments: 21
Kudos: 218





	1. Wolf meets Lamb

Will sighed, sipping at expensive champagne, knuckles white with how hard he was holding the bowl of the glass; he wasn’t exactly accustomed to large or fancy gatherings. Neither him nor his father were, so he was unsure why he insisted on forcing his son to come. 

On the brightside, he supposed, this one was for a job his father recently was accepted for; a position higher than most starters, with better pay. It was exciting to see him succeed, but Will couldn’t limit his feelings of bitterness. 

Why couldn’t he have tried so hard for a career when he was a boy? All the beers and motels he wasted money on when he could have been buying a computer to submit resumes through, or buying a house so he could have an actual place of residence to put down on a job application. The bitterness of that side of his childhood did nothing to help the burn of the dull alcohol sliding down his throat. 

Regardless, he was trying to get somewhere in his life now, and if Will could do nothing but attend dinner parties and sip the alcohol at wealthy people's houses, then he supposed he shouldn't be one to complain. 

It was a short while of drifting, watching his Dad socialize with various couples and individuals, trying to bear each interaction of his own, avoiding the gazes that fell upon him. Will settled in one of the darker, emptier sections of the room, still nursing his tall glass of champagne. He looked around once more, sight locking with that of an older man’s. Hair slightly greying, an elegant stubble on his jaw. He was wearing a fine suit and chatting in a large group of people, but still seemed..stiff. 

The young man broke their eye contact, but did not immediately dispel him from his mind. He was probably the host, the way some of the guests happily flocked to his side, as if just his presence could bestow upon them a slight mimic of the success he's had. He took only a few steps over the next ten minutes, really only moving to switch champagne glasses, courtesy of the catering staff walking around with fresh rounds every now and again. His second drink before dinner wasn't a good sign, he could tell, but still disregarded the slightly concerned glance from the man who handed him the beverage. He watched him walk away, about to take another swig, when a deep accented voice rose up behind him. 

"Hello,"

Will spun on his heel, nearly toppling over and spilling the bubbly liquid all over the both of him. He probably would have, had he not reached out to grab the man's shoulder to steady himself, and had the man himself not reached up and grabbed his wrist, holding his arm still. They matched gazes once more, and the smaller found himself struggling to pull away from the auburn eyes before him.

He felt his face grow hot and hoped to whatever higher power there was that he wasn't beet red at the moment. Letting go of his shoulder, Will straightened, clearing his throat.

"I'm so sorry, please forgive me. A little clumsy on my feet.."

He explained, trailing off as the other slowly pulled the flute from his grasp, taking a sip from it and holding it, before smiling at him.

"It's alright, nothing was spilled. Is this only your second drink?"

He was flabbergasted, not sure how to answer. If he was implying he was a lightweight, he was poorly mistaken. He nodded, still looking away; watching the man in the tux come back with an empty tray, pausing to allow him to place the half empty glass onto it, much more gracefully than Will had lifted it moments ago. 

"A shame, I'd hoped this Dom Perignon would be worth three before dinner. Hannibal,"

He brought his hand up, holding it out, firm but welcoming for when Will shook it. Their hands dragged when the two men pulled back, aged calluses and blisters scraping against more recent experiences.

"Will Graham."

Hannibal's eyes shone, and he paused, mouth pursed a moment, before feigning the facial expression of what must've been a realization.

"Ah, Franklin's son, of course. He mentioned that he'd be bringing you along."

He glanced back towards him, opening his mouth to speak, he paused, watching the man's gaze snap up to meet his own-had he been..checking him out? For lack of better words, yes, Will was sure of it; he'd given the boy a once over. 

He closed his mouth, hesitating, before he subconsciously smoothed a hand over the front of his shirt, trying to make himself more presentable, much too late into the meeting between the two of them. Deciding to ignore the action, he attempted to continue the conversation, despite the new tension; he didn't feel the need to address that with his father's new boss.

"He did? Dad always jokes about bringing me up, both to other people and me, but I never thought anyone necessarily remembered his shenanigans."

Hannibal shrugged, still not looking away from Will, even though he'd broken eye contact once again, if not for his usual reasons then to salvage his own first impression. 

"Yes, he talks about you quite often, but it'd be foolish to ignore some of what he says," He paused, shifting on his feet, "Not fond of eye contact, are you Will?"

Blue eyes all but shot in his direction, a shocked expression gliding across his face, unfiltered for the smallest moment. He felt a second round of the emotion roll around at the man's visible pleasure in startling him into eye contact. He scoffed, tongue already rolling. 

"Eyes are too distracting. You see too much, you don't see enough. And it's hard to focus when you're thinking, oh,  _ those whites are really white _ , or  _ they must have hepatitis _ , or  _ is that a burst vein _ ? So, yes, I try to avoid eyes whenever possible. I'm sure you can see my dilemma."

Hannibal let out a few soft, light chuckles as he looked him up and down once more, faster this time. He clearly wasn't deflected by the observations.

"I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. You're very observant."

He clicked his tongue, brow furrowing in response whilst the man opened his mouth to continue before looking past Will, jaw closing once more. Following his line of sight, his eyes came to a stop upon a grandfather clock, elegant and matching the rest of the antique furniture he could see. 

"I'm sorry, Will, but I'm going to put a pin in this conversation for the sake of announcing that the food is ready, and that we may all move to the dining room."

Before either man could say anything else, he slipped away, going to stand in the doorway between the warm room everyone was currently mingling in and the room in which they'd eat. He wasn't paying attention to whatever announcement made the people with him clink their glasses and smile heartily, but he believed it to be something witty and questionably presented, as were most of the things that had been said by Hannibal. 

The attendees began to file into the next room, past their host who stood in the entryway, smiling at them, offering sparse conversation when the other party initiated it. Will was one of the last to give in and transfer to the dining room, but as he did, he felt the ghost of a breath glide across his neck, brown eyes burning into the back of his head as he moved to find a seat beside his father. 

It took more than half of the five course meal for him to get used to the confusingly small plates, the elaborate table decorations, the careful presentation of literal ounces of meats and sweet treats. On the last plate, before dessert, he didn’t focus on the food before him; he focused on the man at the head of the table instead, and was frozen in place when he realized Hannibal was already looking at him. 

Had he been watching the whole time? On occasion? With every new display? Had he watched his jaw shift while he chewed, taken a deep breath everytime Will took another unbearably large drink from the wine that had been picked for dinner? 

Will’s jaw set, and just before he looked away, Hannibal winked, and observed the alarm that spread across his face, the crimson shade his ears and neck welcomed in blotches. 

“Are you okay? You look a little red”

His head swiveled back to his dad, who was looking at his with an almost concerned expression.

“Overwhelmed?”

Will took the opportunity not to answer and simply nodded his head, looking down at his plate.

“I’m alright, I can last the night. For you.”

He saw him smile out of the corner of his eye, before they both refocused on eating, his dad resuming a minor conversation he’d been having with someone else at the table.

When Will glanced back up, Hannibal wasn’t even at the table; probably overseeing something in the kitchen. It irked him almost, to see he wasn’t still the center of his attention, but he knew that was a foolish thing to feel about a stranger. Before he knew it, Will was zoning out again.

*

He was in and out of what felt like a daze for a long while, only really popping back in to eat dessert and listen to Hannibal make his toast. As Will stood in the same room as earlier, classical music playing quietly while people resumed their conversations, he dully remembered the back of his neck warming when Hannibal locked eyes with him at the end of his “speech”. 

Shrugging off the feeling that crept onto him, the same feeling that had been pulling on his coat all night, he looked around the room once more. 

His attention fell, almost immediately, to the man he’d been searching for-but, more importantly, to the  _ other  _ man that was practically hanging from his arm. 

Will stiffened slightly, watching the two talk in their corner of the room, eyes following his hand when it grazed across his lower back to settle on his waist, shooting back up to watch him lean down over and whisper in his ear. 

A shot of ice cold goosebumps spread from his thighs to his neck, down his arms, when he realized that the person of his interest was already looking at him; piercing maroon eyes intent to hold his gaze as Hannibal kissed the other man just beside his ear. 

This was simply too much.

The boy downed the last of his champagne, grabbed another glass from the worker nearby, and speed walked down one of the two corridors that led away from the suddenly stuffy room. He’d aimed to try to find the front door to get some fresh air, but he’d clearly taken the wrong hall, so he figured he’d wander for a small while and try to feel less..overwhelmed. 

It was fairly boring, those extensive halls. Identical doors and random expensive paintings and at least two bathrooms, all of which he passed with little interest.

At least he could find a distraction in searching for something that would catch his eye.

He finally found it, he hoped, when he came to a pair of large double doors. Intricate designs in the wood, golden handles, closed as if protecting something sacred. 

He opens them and leaves one cracked behind him. Before him is a large library, shelves framing the warm room, books filling every crevice of them. 

Will stands there in awe for a moment before beginning to drift around the large library, fingers trailing the spines of books, from worn and ancient paperbacks to leather bound novels adorned in gold strings and paint.    
He was still shocked even minutes after entering the library, handling any books he looked at with care, as though they were made of glass. 

It’s not long before Hannibal speaks up from the doorway where he has a hand on the doorknob. 

“A collector?”   
He stepped farther into the large area, closing the door in the pause between him speaking and Will’s reply.

“Ah, no, just a reader. You have so many books,” He stammered out, a new atmosphere spreading through the room.

Hannibal came to where he stood, holding a worn book, german words sprawled out across the cover page. He picked it from Will’s grasp, lightly, not to take it from him but to show him an inscription at the back.

“This was a gift for my family, from an old friend.”

“A gift for a family member or for the family?”

He raised an eyebrow and looked at the boy, corners of his lips turning upwards.

“My great grandfather was a respected man.”

Will nodded. The two wandered for a while, bouncing different topics around until one stuck.

“What school did you go to?”

“Community. Not because I’m incapable, just because I couldn’t afford University.” Will looked up at him.

“You didn’t go to college, did you?”

The older man thought for a moment.

“No, I didn’t. I would hesitate to tell you this, but there's no reason to.”

“Did you lie to get your job, all those years ago?”

He teased, receiving an interested glare.

“I’ve been in my line of work for 7 years now. ‘All those years ago’, I wasn’t even in the business.”

The smaller nodded, shrugging one shoulder. It was becoming increasingly harder to keep the subject lighthearted. 

“You were poor, too? How many lies have you told to reach where you are now?”

“Why would I need to lie? The only thing that I have to offer is my perception, which is just another shade of the truth.”

“So..a lot of lies?”

The man pauses, turning towards the snarky boy.

“Assuming I’m a liar is a rather rude thing to do, Will. Perhaps I should teach you a lesson on honesty.”

Will glanced between him and the space before the pair, a small smirk playing across his face.

“Perhaps you should”   



	2. Devoured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other whined, audibly, a heavy sigh and the sound of him shifting atop the table following. Will was anxious, a lamb to the slaughter, bound and waiting for the Wolf to devour him.  
> Hannibal quickly returned to his boy, recapturing his lips in a chaste kiss.  
> __
> 
> They finally fuck.

Silence ensues, and Hannibal’s eyelids lower slightly. Will clenches and unclenches his hands before he pushes him roughly against one of the bookshelves, one hand sliding behind the smaller man’s head to keep it from smacking the surface.   
They kissed, angry almost. He felt his faded stubble scratch against Will’s own clean shaven skin.   
Hannibal was on a power trip, thanks to the boy that was finally in his arms. He’d felt his breath leave him when he’d locked eyes with his pale blue ones. 

All night, he had been waiting for a chance to taste him, own him, and now that he could, it was easy to confirm that he was just as lucious in flavor as he was in appearance. 

Will bit his lower lip and arched his back, pressing against Hannibal, rubbing his groin against his hip; the pretty thing was half hard already. He pressed back, a low hum at the back of his throat as shaking hands pressed and pulled at various places on his arms and back. 

He pulled back, just barely glimpsing the desperation on his reddened face, a refreshing comparison to Hannibal’s urgent sturdiness. 

Will gasped, feeling his hand tighten in his short curls, pulling his head farther back so the older man could lick and nose along his jawline, ravage his neck and lower, free hand popping open the buttons on his shirt with ease.

"I said I'd never fuck anyone older than my dad, but-"

Will cut off, a small sound escaping him when Hannibal bit his earlobe, hands spreading open his now unbuttoned shirt, grazing his ribs and hips. 

"But I suppose I'll have to make an exception"

He clung to his biceps, letting out small whimpers for nearly every little bite, lick, and kiss down to his nipples. Hannibal smoothed one hand down, palm lightly brushing the front of his jeans, Will already jerking his hips forward against his warmth. A chuckle, a harsh bite on his chest that leaves him crying out, sucking in a hiss through his teeth, before he straightened and kissed him once more. Two large hands pressed from his front, around his hips, sliding down and over his ass, squeezing a moment while he took a deep breath through his nose before pushing his tongue into the boy’s mouth. Grip sliding lower to the backs of his thighs, pulling softly, Will wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling up to let him pick him up. 

Hannibal pulled back from the book case, walking backwards for a step before turning. A few more long strides and he was putting him down on one of tables, reaching behind him to push off a few books. 

He pulled back as they clattered to the ground, trying to hold eye contact while he rubbed his hard-on against Will’s inner thigh, aching to know what the soft skin there felt like, yearning for the naked friction. 

  
Blue eyes quickly avoided the pursuit, instead favoring to watch his own hands while they fiddled with Hannibal’s belt buckle.   
  


He pulled open their pants, but the reins were taken after that, starting by shuffling Will’s jeans down to his ankles and off of them, pulling off his shoes as if they were an afterthought. 

Hannibal’s hand slid into his pocket and reemerged in a fist just before kicking off his own expensive loafers and socks, pulling his pants off neatly, resting them on a chair nearby. 

The other whined, audibly, a heavy sigh and the sound of him shifting atop the table following. Will was anxious, a lamb to the slaughter, bound and waiting for the Wolf to devour him. 

He quickly returned to his boy, recapturing his lips in a chaste kiss as he opened his fist. 

Will scoffed at the sight of the small bottle of lube, letting him push a hand up his chest to lay him back along the surface, cold wood pressing against his shoulder blades. 

“Am I that easy? Did you know we’d end up here?”

He asked, looking somewhat helpless behind his adamant teasing. Hannibal leaned down to kiss his cheek, the cap popping open loudly. 

“I had hopes.”

“Expectations, you mean,”

He countered, half turning his face away while the man before him transferred to kissing the top of his throat, muttering against his jaw. 

“Hopes lead into expectations and often leave people feeling stranded within their own disappointment. You have done the exact opposite, exceeding my expectations with each passing moment.”

Will flushed, draping one arm over his eyes while he felt Hannibal rub the first bit of cold fluid against his rim, just barely inside him. 

He didn’t dare speak, unsure of what would slip from between his lips if he tried. 

Instead, he focused on the cold sensation of another round of lube, coating two of Hannibal’s fingers whicher sliding inside him, opening up the tight circle of muscle.

Will moved his arm, hand falling on his chest, a mental barrier between the two men. He worked to put that distance between them, yes still squirmed when Hannibal pulled his hand away and stood straighter.

He leaned up slightly, coming up to one elbow at the snap of the lube bottle shutting, watching as Hannibal rubbed a slick hand along his length, _oiling_ himself up. 

He hummed, pulling his legs further back, giving him the needed space. Instead of laying Will back down he leaned forwards, perched between his legs, thickness rubbing against his rim. 

Hannibal felt pleasure thrumming beneath his skin at the sign of submission, making the decision of how this would begin; he could feel his control slipping from him.

The idea of pushing and pulling, slow, kneading Will into a puddle of want and helplessness sounded lovely, but Hannibal knew he himself wouldn’t be able to resist tearing the rosy boy apart at the seams.

He pushed in just a little past halfway with a grunt, feeling Will strain around him with a yelp. He could almost hear his teeth ground and nearly leaned down to kiss away the tension, but he had no time for soft formalities. 

Only pausing a moment, he began to move, pulling out softly and pushing into him at the same length, hips flexing far too fast for a painless fuck.

Tears pricked across Will’s eyes which were wrenched shut, face flushed and twisted in response to the searing burn in his lower half. Nothing felt better than being filled, surrounding Hannibal, but it sure as hell fucking hurt. 

They’d found a rhythm of skin pressing together, and both were becoming used to the circumstances, but Will was caught off guard when Hannibal pushed in much farther than before. His arms drew tight around Hannibal’s waist as the older man bent over him, pressing his face against his shoulder. He was girthy and the boy cried out at the feeling of him being stretched so far, feeling him so deep inside him.

Will bit down into the rough skin on his shoulder, half screaming into the skin as he did so, a new rhythm found. He was being so rough with the inexperienced man, slowly turning him inside out. Things were going quite lovely, even though Will’s legs ached and his spine hurt where it pressed against the table; anything for more. 

He clawed at his shoulder blades, humming against the pale bite mark beneath his lips, gasping when he was rendered empty.

Will, confused as to why he’d suddenly pulled out, felt calloused hands slide down his lower back, onto the curve of his ass, pulling up to lift him. Hannibal grunted, turning the boy over and letting him smack down onto the desk once more, hip bones surely going to be sore after the rough collision. He laid his face against the cool wood, legs like jello as he felt a hand shift to settle on his waist after rubbing over his back. 

What Will wasn’t prepared for, after all the buildup for reentrance in his mind, was for the stinging slap of one of Hannibal’s large hands on his ass. 

  
“On your elbows,”   
He paused while the smaller man straightened up, still leaning far over the table.   
He felt another blow, this time his back jerked, arching slightly in shock.   
“I’m on my elb-”   
Will’s words of protest were cut short when Hannibal suddenly pushed his way into his ass once more, leaving him to close his eyes and moan. 

He fucked into him hard, thrusting more sporadically when Will began to moan _whoarishly_ in response to the stimulation spreading through a special spot inside him. 

He reached up to hold Will’s shoulder, the other trailing down his spine…  
Hannibal gathers his arms around Will’s waist, one coming up and resting on one side of his chest, pulling him so he's standing, hands braced against the edge of the table. The boy's legs trembled when the man behind him kicked them slightly farther apart. 

Hannibal bit the base of his neck, grunting, fucking halfway inside him. Will was holding himself up with nothing but one hand besides the arms around his waist, free hand coming back to curl in H’s hair, panting and moaning sweet "oh god"s and other small things, until Hannibal pushes back into him at a refreshing curve and Will pulls on the fine strands between his fingers, screaming out something neither of them had expected.

“Oh, _Daddy_!”

Hannibal stalls and smirks against the back of his neck.

"Hmm, sweet boy?"

He pulls his head up a little and bites at his ear, pushing him suddenly, face smacking against the wood of the table. Now leaning over him, Hannibal pushed into him slow, deep, not hitting that golden spot anymore, leaving Will squirming slightly,

"Hannibal-"

"Beg, boy.”

A feverish heat spread throughout him, neck and up surely bright red. He opened his mouth, licked his lips and hushed a weak moan, panting raggedly. 

Shame washed over him, but he continued regardless, cock straining against the table.

“Please, Daddy”

“Please what? Use your words.”

He panted out his firm response quickly.

Will whimpered, pushing back against him as best he could, one of Hannibal's hands sliding up from the base of his spine and into his hair, pushing his head down firmly. 

“Please, do it again. Fuck me like you were, please, pretty please,”

He was bordering on rambling, but Hannibal pulled on his soft curls, yanking him up once more, immediately resuming his early angle; practiced.

An experienced hand slid over from his waist, around to his stomach, pressing, sliding up and onto his chest, fingers sliding over Will’s nipple. The twink’s breath hitched, soft, high pitched mewls being pulled from the front of his throat whilst Hannibal played with him. 

Hand finally unlocking from his hair, he reached down to spread his reddened cheeks, slowing only a moment before pushing up, heels straining as he buried himself to the hilt in that pretty ass.

Will let out a sound fit for a slut, head falling forwards in the air exhaustedly while Hannibal continued to push in further than necessary. 

He felt the now familiar stubble brush against his shoulder, his neck. Hannibal’s hand passed his nipple finally, leaving it perky and cold, to slide up past his collarbone and wrap around the front of his neck.

He kissed the nape of his neck, fingers squeezing the sides tightly, Will’s windpipe vibrating with another pathetic moan.

“Ohh, god,”

He bared his teeth, scraping along the soft skin below his hair, breath hot, desperately measured. 

Will felt lost in the sensation of him inside him, against him, breathing him in and out like an intoxicating perfume. He tore a hand from where it gripped the edge of the table, wrapping around his dick, adams apple pushing at Hannibal’s palm when he mewled sweetly,

“May I, Daddy?”

Hannibal grunted, “ _Fuck_ , yes,” and wrapped his arm around his stomach, lifting him slightly. Will pumped his arm, frenzied, stomach feverish and tight as he moved in a similar rhythm to the man behind him, on his toes. 

Hannibal’s mouth, still open, upper teeth sliding down to the point where his neck meets his shoulder, had begun to let out wondrous sounds; it made the boy dizzy, hearing how he made him lose control.

“Do you feel the effect you have on me?” He punctuates this with one hard thrust. “You flaunt yourself like a rare desert behind a display case,” his voice was muffled against his shoulder, “Unable to touch, to taste. See what you drive me to do, sweet boy?”

Will’s eyes wrenched shut, his feet slipped slightly, and his head fell back against Hannibal's shoulder, silent as his breath caught in his throat. He practically saw stars behind his eyelids while his orgasm racked through him, the older man rapidly losing his poise and control. 

He was very quickly overstimulated, whining, a rag doll in his arms, before the hand around his throat tightened and Hannibal’s hips stuttered with a hearty groan, balls deep, cum shooting in hot ropes, filling Will’s hole.. 

He shifted his other arm to join the one around his hips, letting his boy flop onto the table into his own liquids, taking a moment before sliding out of him, gradually softening. 

Will stays on cloud nine for a few minutes, legs bent, perching on his toes with his face moist where his breath caused condensation on the desk.

When he came back to himself, Hannibal was running a finger down his spine, other hand placing a tissue box on the table beside him.

His legs shook when he lifted himself, supporting his weight on his hands, feeling Hannibal’s warmth sluggishly dripping down his inner thighs. A glimpse over his shoulder revealed the man himself, getting dressed, a smirk playing across his features at the sight of his hard work. 

The bite mark on his neck was purple-red, throbbing, and Will flushed brighter at the thought of someone knowing who’d put it there.

Hannibal fixed his cufflinks while the still perky man cleaned his mess off the table, slowly, still adjusting to the previous events.

He felt a warm breath on the back of his neck and turned his head halfway when he felt warm fingers pressing beneath his cheeks, covered by the thin fabric of a tissue. Hannibal’s hand slid downwards slightly, wiping his remnants from his rosy lower half.

Will turned around, pressing into his arms, satisfied when both of their breath hitched. 

A pat on the ass, a gentle hand in his hair, and the bear of a man had slipped away to pick up the remaining clothes. Taking his suit coat and holding out a clump of Will’s less expensive outfit, Hannibal felt a pang at the back of his throat when the tired bot scoffed, snatching the offered items out of his hand. 

Stepping close, again, again, until Will was leaning against the cooling surface once more, reaching up to grip Hannibal’s bicep with his free hand.

A low growl built in the older man’s mouth as he pressed his lips chastely against Will’s, not seeking him out but reprimanding him.

“Be polite.”

He pulled back, eyes met with warm skies of gratification in the younger pair of eyes. 

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good Boy.”

He smiled, small, and put a hand on his shoulder, letting his thumb caress the slightly bruised skin adjourning his collarbone before dropping his arm and turning to leave.

Will lazily got dressed, leaving the library soon after Hannibal, aiming to find the bathroom this time.

**

Will was waiting by the door, 4 minutes meeting 5 as he stared down at his phone screen, wondering how many goodbyes his dad had planned to make when he’d said to hold on. He glanced up at the hall opposite his position in the foyer, hoping to see Franklin, disappointed every time. 

When he heard his dad’s voice drifting down the corridor, Will looked up once more, a shock forcing its way down his spine; beside the man he’d been waiting for was an all too familiar man. They locked eyes and a light blush crashed down the back of his neck. He looked away, turning to open the door and hold it for his dad, who’d finally stopped talking.

“Thank you for joining me, tonight. I’m excited to see you both at more dinners.”

His fingers felt numb around the doorknob, but Frank replied merrily.

“Thank you for having us! I look forward to seeing this lovely house again,” he chuckled out, patting Will on the shoulder.

“Say goodbye, I’ll be in the car.”

It was a low mumble, but not a whisper, and Hannibal’s face brightened at the words.

He smiled, salty, watching the man walk down the driveway and down the sidewalk towards where his car had been parked.

Will turned, looking the wealthy man up and down, and turned with a dismissive nod of his head, aiming to leave.

Instead, he felt his left hand wrap around his hip, firm, right hand sliding down to cup his ass between the two of them. Kissing the crown of his head through those dark, soft curls, combed out lazily in a poor attempt to hide the evidence of the night’s events. 

Will closed his eyes, leaning back against him, brows furrowing when he felt thick fingers slip into the back pocket of his slacks.

Hannibal stepped back, smiling, hand falling on the door handle.

“Goodnight, thank you for coming”

Will looked over his shoulder and responded with a cunning smile, stepping over the threshold, the door clicking softly behind him.  
  
*


End file.
